


Fight or Flight

by Dagonet (TsukikoCurrier)



Series: MerHartWin Things [9]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Wingfic, polyshipweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsukikoCurrier/pseuds/Dagonet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching Harry murder a Winged-hating Wingless church was a thing of beauty. His whisky-gold plumage and bladed pinions burst from where they had been carefully folded beneath his jacket, and there had been chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight or Flight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elletromil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/gifts).



> The polyshipweek theme for today is wingfic!
> 
> I've written what is probably my favourite line in this fic, for no real reason other than it makes me smile :)

  
          Watching Harry murder a Winged-hating Wingless church was a thing of beauty. His whisky-gold plumage and bladed pinions burst from where they had been carefully folded beneath his jacket, and there had been chaos.  
  
  
          No one at Kingsman had as much control over their pinions as Harry did. Maybe no one in the world. He could flex so minutely that he could slice a strand of hair in half, if he felt like it. To see him no-holds-barred make his way through the hate church was at once cathartic and horrifying. Eggsy wished he had half as much skill. As Eggsy watched Valentine, he yelled at the screen for Harry to do _something_  to escape somehow. To _fly away_.  
  
  
           But Harry did no such thing. In three separate places the universe screamed in denial, one soul in three pieces mourned Harry's lack of flight, and Harry got shot under the hot Kentucky sun. Wingless Valentine walked away, his raven-winged and blade-legged assistant practically skipping behind him, and the world began to collapse.  
  
  
           Arthur's wings were frail, their colours faded, and Eggsy thought that they rather reminded him of a dying cockroach's legs. They'd certainly twitched enough in their death throes. He felt none of the satisfaction he thought he would at his passing, and ran to his surviving Mate to make sure they could keep the world from getting completely fucked.  
  
  
          Roxy's dove-grey feathers puffed slightly at his arrival, but soon enough were drooping low enough to scrape across the floor. She knew, then. She goes to space without complaint, silently praying that her wings can support her on the way down- she's terrified of heights, but can glide with the best of them. She could do this.  
  
  
          'They always underestimate the Wingless, Eggsy- they _expect_  Winged rich twats, as you'd say, to employ them for menial tasks. My being your Valet is the easiest way. I have to stay here and get into the system, and they won't leave me alone if I'm Winged.' Merlin's removed his jumper and oxford, revealing the intricate harness beneath, and as much as Eggsy would love physical backup, he understands. This, however, doesn't stop him from pulling the harness off.  
  
  
           They have an hour's journey between here and Valentine, and Eggsy wants to spend it as close to Merlin as possible.  
  
  
           He stretches his own wings, wraps them about them both, Eggsy's chest pressed to the fragile base of Merlin's wings, squishing them in the minuscule space between as their feathers tangle together. If it weren't for Merlin's constant (unnecessary) binding it would be uncomfortable, but as Eggsy's fingertips idly straightened out Merlin's feathers, it only felt intimate.  
  
  
           One of Harry's feathers hangs from a chain at Eggsy's neck, beside his Kingsman medal, trapped between them. It's the closest they'll get to closure at the moment, and it's exactly what they needed. A quarter hour before landing, Eggsy helps Merlin's wings into the harness, mourning their confinement as he helps him get dressed. Eggsy slips into his Kingsman suit, hawk-like wings proudly protruding behind him like any posh fuck would, and prepares to infiltrate a secret base and kill the fucker in charge.  
  
  
          'Looking good, Eggsy- but you're missing something.' Eggsy quirked an eyebrow, but Merlin merely passed him a thin leather box- which Eggsy opened cautiously. Like it was going to spew fake snakes at him like those prank cans.

  
He freezes.  
  
  
          'Harry put in the order for those right at the start of your training- I think he intended them to be a Mating gift, but we kind of jumped the gun on that. They weren't done fast enough for his taste.' Merlin fills Eggsy's awed silence, regretful but somehow still smiling. Bittersweet.  
  
  
          Eggsy pulls from the box a full set of serrated pinions, steel and onyx and rose gold, looking like metallic copies of his own. He passes them one at a time to Merlin, who carefully attaches them to the front of each of Eggsy's, looking like nothing more that some fancy procedure done to show off his wealth. They're an odd weight to adjust to, but Eggsy pulls in and extends his wings several times to make sure he could do so naturally.  
  
  
          He could fly like this.

  
'Perfect.'  
  
  
          Eggsy glides (metaphorically, rich people don't actually use their wings for shit) through Valentine's base, Head held high and wings displayed proudly while he orders a drink as arrogantly as possible. He brains Charlie with his fist, blows up gods knew how many people, and ends up in a furious tête–à–tête with Gazelle. She fights like she's Wingless, which confuses Eggsy until he sees the scarring at their base- whatever had taken her legs, had taken her wings all but physically. They were showpieces.  
  
  
          That did not make her any less of an opponent, unfortunately, and Eggsy spent more time dodging her blows than attempting any of his own. He got in one lucky shot- a scratch with one of his new blades, and _fuck_  Merlin should have mentioned they were coated in the same shit as his shoes.  
  
  
          It was rank, but she was dead, and it still didn't leave him with any sense of satisfaction.  
  
  
           Valentine turned, careful to keep his hand on the desk, and found himself face-to-face with the definition of an Avenging Angel, Gazelle's detached leg his righteous spear. Valentine never felt the impact, and Eggsy still felt empty.  
  
  
He felt like the Very Hungry Caterpillar of revenge.  
  
  
           Eggsy made his way slowly from the battlefield, dragging both wings and feet in a way he hadn't since he was a fledgeling. He found himself frozen in the first hall of cells, where he'd asked Merlin to set off the chips, and leaned heavily against the nearest cell door. All those lives wasted, all those people who thought they could somehow cleanse the world and it would operate _just fine_  immediately afterwards? Idiots, the lot of them- but Eggsy still wished there had been another way.  
  
  
           'Is it over, then?' There's a mild voice, muffled, somehow close and yet far away, but Eggsy would know it anywhere.  
  
  
           'Yeah, Valentine's dead but so're all these people. And you.'  
  
  
           'Eggsy,' Merlin interrupts, voice somehow simultaneously emotionless and eager, 'I can hear him, too.' There's frantic clicking. '5683- should be the combination for the door-' Merlin seems to cut himself off, breathless, and Eggsy understands. He hopes and yet tries to convince himself not to as his shaking hand hits the keypad. The door unlocks, swings inward, but Eggsy barely glimpses an expensive-looking sofa before his being is engulfed in a warm embrace.  
  
  
          He can feel Harry's callused palm on the back of his neck, the other firmly embedded in his wings, and he snaps. He's sobbing, fat tears and snot surely soaking into Harry's suit, clinging to Harry like glue, shaking and struggling to pull in a full breath. He knows Merlin's saying something in his ear, but he's so far away. Harry draws back slightly, and Eggsy tightens his grip at the base of Harry's wings, in the down hidden beneath, but Harry's hand pulls from the crook of his neck. Cups his cheek, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone. Grips his jaw, two fingered, and tilts his head up.  
  
  
          Harry's lips touch his own, and Eggsy feels like a kite held to earth by a fine string. He's flying with his feet still on the ground, his heart beating wildly in his chest, tethered in reality by Harry, Harry, _Harry,_  who had somehow survived the impossible. He can feel Merlin enter the cell, if only by how complete he suddenly feels- and that's the Bond, settling back into place after such trauma. They break apart, and Eggsy steps back to allow Merlin in. Merlin, who somehow looks more dishevelled than Eggsy feels, harness hanging off of one wing that seems to have burst through the shirt he had been wearing.  
  
  
          Eggsy takes their embrace to straighten their feathers, to groom them, and tuts lowly under his breath at the state of Harry's. What could have occupied his time, here in this barren room, to such an extent that he allowed himself to fall to such disarray? It had been barely over a day!  
  
  
Eggsy believes he is in shock.  
  
  
          The left side of Harry's face is poorly bandaged, and obviously in need of medical care, but he's up and about and functioning thanks to some kind of miracle. The sight of the bandages, bloody and wrinkled, brings Eggsy to speak.  
  
  
          'Harry, once you're healed up, you're gettin' fucking flying lessons.' Harry makes to protest, one hand raised and mouth slightly agape, but Eggsy plows on. 'I don't give a shit if you can slice the wings off a bee mid-flight from the ground, love, you're gonna fly proper. From zero. That shit could save your life.'  
  
  
          Merlin nods his head in agreement, eyes still closed and nose rubbing against the hollow of Harry's neck, and Harry seems to deflate. His hand drops, his wings droop, his mouth shuts, and he nods. Eggsy takes a moment to gaze at his Mates, and thanks the gods he barely believes in for keeping them alive. Not quite whole, but alive, and able to fix the damage together.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on tumblr at [AgentDagonet](http://www.agentdagonet.tumblr.com)


End file.
